[ this conversation had taken a turn that's quickly careened out of his control, with the complete understanding that he had put him there himself. that train-wreck feeling of being unable to look away. ]

No, [ the honestly slips out before he can bite down on it. he casts an almost desperate look around them, keeps himself still. too aware that they created a bit of a roadblock within the hall, senses prickling at every passerby. ] - no, I mean, I don't want to -

[ he tries to ignore the worst case scenarios that come to mind at breakneck speed as he looks back to sam.

this was part of the job description, wasn't it? he was an avenger now! except he never did get that run down, choosing to leap first and think later and when did that ever work out well. there's dread in his gut, and honestly this isn't good. sam wouldn't be trying to spare his feelings so much if he was and he can't help but think of the time when uncle ben died.

his throat is very, very dry. ] - but please tell me.

[ feet planted firmly, and he realizes he's wringing his hands. then realizes there's no pockets in this starter outfit to shove them into. ] - Because otherwise I'm going to just keep thinking about it, and then I'll still have to ask you tomorrow or something, and then we'll both be thinking about it.

[] and besides, knowing the future means you can change it, right? whatever happened, it can change, with them here....right? ]